


Always Listen to Raven

by kay_emm_gee



Series: Bellarke Fic Week: February 2015 [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Friendship, Future Fic, Pregnancy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 7: Clarke Is Pregnant</p><p>When Clarke is at her wit’s end with Bellamy’s indifferent behavior after the birth of their daughter, and with another baby on the way, she turns to Raven for some very helpful advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been three days since she and Bellamy had spoken to each other, and the silence was getting unbearable. The fact that their tension was creeping into their interactions in public wasn’t helping either. Just now, as Clarke had made her way towards the Ark to drop off some radios for Raven to repair, she had passed Bellamy in the yard. Granted, he had been busy running exercises with some new Guard recruits, but he had definitely seen her, and even more definitely, he had ignored her. Not even a short nod hello or brief eye contact. Miller had noticed, and Kane too, and it made Clarke’s stomach flip with anxiety. Having a fourth-month-old daughter was difficult enough without adding marital discord into the picture, let alone that trouble being made public knowledge. Clarke grit her teeth against her rising anger ( _did he really have to be so damn obvious about it?_ ) as she made her way into Raven’s workroom.

Distracted as she was, Clarke hadn’t meant to slam the broken radios onto the table, but she had, and so she supposed that she deserved the glare her friend was now sending her way.

“That’s right, make loud, unexpected noise in the mechanic’s workroom,” Raven snapped, returning her focus to her current project. “Do you not see that I am elbow deep in wires and circuits—live wires and circuits—that could electrocute me, to death, if I moved them an inch the wrong way?”

Clarke sighed, folding her arms across her chest, hunching in just a little bit sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, Raven. Accident.”

“Thank god you’re not a mechanic then. You’d have an accident and end up blowing up the entire camp,” the other girl responded, her voice still annoyed but not as sharp.

Still not looking up, Raven continued fiddling with the wires, muttering to herself. Clarke couldn’t make out if it was more complaints or just her thinking out loud. Either way, she didn’t care. Sitting down on the stool a few feet away, Clarke shut her eyes, listening to her friend’s quiet mumbling, which was only interrupted occasionally by metallic clicks and snaps of her tinkering. The sounds were soothing, much more welcome than the memories of Bellamy’s harsh silence recently. She squeezed her closed eyes tightly, willing away the tears she felt forming.

Ever since Dawn had been born, he had been different: attentive to her and the baby for the last few months, intensely so, but there was a wall there now. He’d sleep beside her, but only when the baby was in their bed. Otherwise, he’d stay up and whittle something or do weapons maintenance or even laundry, falling asleep wherever he happened to be (the floor of their room, O and Linc’s cabin, the stock room). With a half-hearted laugh, he would joke about being proud of his ability to fall asleep anywhere. Then he’d kiss Clarke’s forehead, and Dawn’s, and she couldn’t complain, because it wasn’t like he had stopped touching her altogether. There were those forehead kisses and some vague arm squeezes, hands touching as they passed the baby or fingers trailed unconsciously across backs in passing. That was it, though. All semblance of sexual chemistry had almost all but disappeared, at least on his side.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, because she had heard about this, seen it before, working in the medbay. She knew having a baby was tiresome—physically, mentally, emotionally—and being on the ground made that even harder. Some couples couldn’t handle the changes well, even under normal circumstances, and it drove a wedge in their relationship. Clarke just never thought it would happen to her and Bellamy. Trying to silently choke back a sob, she gripped her knees tightly, not wanting Raven to notice. She really should go before she pissed off her friend further, but Bellamy was right out there in the yard, and she just couldn’t face him in public again so soon.

“Since you’re still here,” Raven’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “I’m guessing you need something, and now that I’ve got my hands far away from the very dangerous electrical leads, how can I help—woah, woah, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

At the rough touch of hands against hers, Clarke opened her eyes blearily. Raven had swiveled around in her seat and was now leaning towards her, expression worried.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke choked out. “It’s just, Bell and I got into a fight, and it was so awful, and stupid, and oh god I shouldn’t be interrupting you. You’re working, I’ll go—”

Clarke tried to stand, but Raven tugged her back down into the seat.

“What happened?” The girl asked, eyes serious and intense.

Having kept her worry to herself for so long (because Abby would eventually have found out if she talked, and that wouldn’t have helped matters at all), Clarke initially had trouble telling the story, but eventually everything wrong in the last few months just spilled out. Raven listened without commenting, letting Clarke vent, which she was thankful for.

“And finally I confronted him a few nights ago, because we’ve only had sex a few times since before Dawn was born, and only when we were both drunk, and he was even more distant after those few times. It’s confusing, and really hurtful, so I tried to talk to him about it, but he just brushed it off like nothing was wrong. And I got so furious, because yes, we’re both so tired and are new parents but I have needs, you know? And so does he, and Octavia had already volunteered to take Dawn for a night or two so we could work this out, and he just got so angry even though I have done nothing wrong. It just escalated to the point where we’re not talking anymore. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him.”

Her voice was ragged and hard by the time she finished, her cheeks flaring with renewed resentment. As she sniffled in a deep, shaky breath, Raven squeezed her fingers.

“Idiot. Want me to yell at him? Or kick his ass? Or get Monty and Jasper to poison him? Not like, deadly poison, but like, stomachache inducers or laxatives or something?”

Letting out a watery laugh, Clarke shook her head. “I appreciate the thought, but no. He’s my idiot, I guess I’ll have to deal with him. Especially now that I’m pregna—” Clarke cut herself off with an abrupt hiccup as she watched Raven’s eyes widen.

“Again?” The mechanic laughed. “Jesus, Clarke. Isn’t one enough to handle for now?”

“It was an accident!” Clarke protested.

“You seem to be having a lot of those,” Raven chided fondly. “The radios, now the baby…”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke continued quietly, “Well, I wasn’t too focused on birth control, considering Bellamy was practically doing it for me with his lack of initiation. Like I said, we were drunk the few times we have done it, and I wasn’t exactly thinking it would result in something. Now I don’t know how to tell him, especially since it seems he doesn’t even want another one, even though all he talked about when I carried Dawn was how many siblings she should have.” Tears started forming again, and her throat grew more raw. “Maybe I shouldn’t even tell him.”

“Look,” Raven said, tugging on Clarke’s hands slightly and making firm eye contact. “Drag him down to the river tonight, so you can yell at each other in private, and have it out. Tell him about the baby, make him talk about why he has such a big stick up his ass, get an apology. Bellamy can be a shithead, yeah, but he’s always supportive one.”

“In other words, straighten my crap out?” Clarke asked with a sigh.

“Straighten his crap out,” Raven responded tartly.

Her haughty tone made Clarke laugh. “Thanks, Rae,” she murmured, squeezing the mechanic’s grease-covered hands gratefully. “Guess I should leave you to it.”

“These radios aren’t going to repair themselves,” Raven sighed. “Though I should really make the idiots who keep breaking them do it. Then maybe they’ll stop putting them in their back pockets and sitting on them. Morons.”

Clarke gave her friend a weak smile in farewell before exiting the room, trying to calm her knotted stomach by remembering Raven’s encouragement and advice. _Straighten his crap out, Clarke,_ she murmured to herself, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Sundown was in a few hours, and she needed to muster up as much strength as she could, because, despite how badly she had been hurting the last few months, she knew what she and Bellamy had was something worth fighting for.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke paced by the river in the dusky light, glancing again and again towards the trees. Looking at her watch, she frowned, because Bellamy was late. Probably on purpose, which pissed her off. When she had approached him before dinner, saying _we **will** talk about what is going on with us, tonight, so meet me down by the river at sundown_ in a tone that brooked no argument, he had simply grimaced and grunted a very grudging assent. Assuming he would be true to his word, no matter how reluctantly given, Clarke had asked Octavia to watch Dawn and had headed down to the meeting spot almost immediately after finishing her meal.

Now, an hour later, she was waiting, by herself, in the growing dark, getting angrier by the second. Willing herself to breath, she tried to calm down, figuring attacking him off the bat wouldn’t help anything. Three rounds of counting-to-ten later, Bellamy sauntered out of the woods down to the riverbank where she stood glowering, staying more than a few feet away from her. He didn’t say a word, just crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. Glaring back, she waited to see if he would start, because hell if this mess was her fault. As the minutes ticked by and he just stood there with a scowl on his face, her anger won out over her control.

"What the hell is wrong with you?” She exploded, taking a few furious strides towards him.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he ground out, the familiar tick in his cheek popping with intensity.

“Really? Because we haven’t spoken for days.”

“We had a fight. We needed to cool off.”

“We needed to cool off? You are the one acting like an ass.”

“I’m not the one who picked a fight.”

"Well, excuse me if picking a fight was the only way I could get you to talk about this. I’m at least trying to fix us! What the hell are you doing about it, except ignoring me?”

Bellamy’s folded arms tensed and his frown deepened. “What do you mean, fix us?”

Incredulous, Clarke almost shoved him, but clenched her hands at her sides to restrain herself. “So, you think there’s nothing wrong between us, nothing wrong with how you’ve been acting for the last few months?”

“And how have I been acting?” Bellamy muttered through gritted teeth.

“Like a complete ass,” Clarke yelled, her throat beginning to burn from the tears she was holding back. “A stubborn, silent, uncommunicative ass, which is so not you. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Hell, I don’t even care that we haven’t had regular sex in months, or talked in days. You won’t even yell at me right now. What the hell is wrong with you?”

She couldn’t help it, but her voice broke on the last question. Pressing her palms against her watery eyes, she blocked him from her view, desperate to hide her tears. Before she knew what was happening, she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm, hesitant embrace. Trapped as she was against his chest, there was nothing she could do but let him hug her. To be honest, the sudden physical contact felt like a relief after so much time apart. The tears wouldn’t stop, and as she continued to cry into him, he started rubbing small soft circles against her back.

“Shhh,” he hummed unsteadily. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

"What is going on?” She whispered, turning her head so he could hear her.

Bellamy sighed, then pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. He stayed silent for more than a few long minutes, and Clarke almost pulled away to try and read his expression to at least get some idea of his thoughts. Then, after tightening his grip on her briefly, he started talking.

“I know you remember Dawn’s birth, and I know that you know there were complications afterwards, that you were bleeding abnormally and that you passed out from the pain and blood loss,” he said, voice low and rough. “What you don’t know is how fucking terrifying that was, Clarke. One minute you were there, crying and laughing and begging to hold our daughter, and then the next, you just, you just slipped away. Closed your eyes, went whiter than a sheet. I fucking felt your hand lose its grip on mine, felt you lose consciousness. I looked down and your face was slack and there was blood seeping everywhere. Your mother was shouting frantically for more rags and sterile sutures and Jackson trying to calm her down while panicking himself. It was complete chaos and I knew I should try to help, but I—I couldn’t fucking move, couldn’t breathe.”

Suddenly Bellamy paused, sucking in a few unsteady breaths, as if he still couldn’t get enough air months later. Clarke fisted her hands into his shirt, her own breathing unsteady at the emotion in his voice.

“I thought my sister’s birth would be the scariest thing I would ever have to go through. I was six years old and my mother did it in secret, with no help and no medical attention. I thought that was the worst scenario, and never did I imagine there would be something more terrifying than that. Until you, until I almost lost you.”

At that, Clarke pulled away to look up at him. With eyes squeezed tightly shut, his head hung low, chin to his chest.

“Hey,” she murmured, reaching up to frame his face with her hands. “Hey, look at me.”

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, blinking tears away to meet her reassuring stare.

“I’m right here. I’m fine. My mom said it sometimes happens, but it was handled. And I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay now, yeah. But what about next time?” Bellamy asked, his voice taking on a desperate tone. “What if it happens again, and it’s worse, and she can’t fix it? I won’t take that risk, not with you.”

He didn’t even need to finish the thought, because Clarke could hear the words as clearly as she could hear the rushing water beside them: I can’t lose you. And everything fell into place: his reluctance towards sex, the distance he put between them, and his less-than-forthcoming communication.

Closing her eyes, Clarke rose on her toes to press her forehead against his. “Bell, I know how much you want kids, plural. Dawn, as much as we adore her, well, one isn’t enough. For me, but especially for you, because I know how important Octavia is to you, and I know you want that for Dawn. So do I. So, to me, it’s worth the risk, okay? Plus, with the Ark’s IUD efficiency already declining, and no way to remedy that other than shoddy Grounder contraception, it’s not like we can avoid it forever, other than celibacy, which is not an option, I’m guessing, for either of us. So, you may need to resign yourself to the idea.”

“Clarke,” he began unsteadily, but she didn’t let him finish, just pressed her lips against his, heatedly, demandingly, pouring her months of frustration and desire and neediness into a single, long, intense kiss. Beneath her, Bellamy shifted uncertainly, hands hovering just above her skin, like he was unfamiliar with her. With slow, gentle movements, Clarke pressed her body against his, brushing her fingers into his curls, coaxing him back into comfortability with her. It didn’t take too long for them to build back up to something recognizable, something familiar, exploring each other’s bodies with care as they got reacquainted.

And then, like a flame to gunpowder, they exploded: hands tearing at clothes, fingers pressing into skin chilled in the night air, teeth tugging on lips and earlobes and more skin. They stumbled back to the grassier area up from the bank, tumbling down not so gently to the ground, but Clarke didn’t care, because it hadn’t been like this—clear-headed, purposeful, intense—in so long. The potency of the craving and the closeness were overwhelming. Even with it, though, her body was not quite ready for when he pushed into her. It felt raw, and rough, but the long-absent intimacy was finally back in his eyes, and the same feeling building was in her own chest, flaming out to the rest of her limbs until she felt like they were both on fire.

Afterwards, Bellamy tried to move off of her to her side, to let her catch her breath, but Clarke refused. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist, tethering him to her.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, tracing her lips across his cheek.

“I’m heavy,” he whispered back, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.

“I don’t care,” she retorted, nipping at his bottom lip. “I’m not letting you go, not letting you have the chance for second thoughts.”

He kissed her, soft and slow, making her feel as if she could melt right into the dirt below them, before replying, “Mm, too late for second thoughts. I might have already knocked you up again, so, seems like your stuck with me.”

Clarke froze underneath him as she remembered her untold news. She felt him tense in response as he jerked his head up, doubts flickering in his dark brown eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, gaze darting away from hers in uncertainty. “I guess it’s too soon to start joking about another baby.”

“Well,” she mumbled. “About that.”

He cocked his head, brow furrowing in confusion.

“We don’t have to worry about me getting pregnant from tonight,” she said slowly, then paused, as he grew more puzzled. She just watched him for a few seconds, praying her next words wouldn’t send him off running again. “Because, well, that ship sailed about two months ago.”

 _Please be okay with this_ , she implored silently as she watched his eyes widen and his mouth twitch in surprise. Then, his lips gradually spread into a large grin, and he let out a short, astonished laugh, before dropping his head to her shoulder. Pressing a smiling kiss against her skin, he continued to chuckle, and Clarke joined him as his hair tickled her neck.

“No wonder you were so cranky. Should’ve know it was pregnancy hormones,” he murmured against her collarbone, grumbling when she poked him hard in the ribs in retaliation for the comment.

“Shut up,” she admonished, then bit her lip, still a bit worried. “So, you’re happy?”

Bellamy lifted his head again to look at her, and his expression was pleased but also wary and a bit tired. “Incredibly so. It doesn’t mean the thought of you—” he trailed off, and she watched his face tighten as he collected his thoughts. “I’m still going to worry, likely more so than last time—don’t sigh at me. And I’m not going to lie, I’ll probably be terrified when you go into labor again, but I am with you, every step of the way. Never doubt that,” he finished fiercely, eyes lighting up with conviction.

“Never have,” Clarke said, sealing his promise with a kiss, which spiraled out of control, like it had earlier, like they always used to do.

The two of them lingered there by the river long into the night, until Clarke started shivering uncontrollably, making Bellamy insist that they return to camp. The whole way back, though, he never took his hand out of hers, and Clarke couldn’t stop smiling, thankful that she had listened to Raven’s advice. Finally, it felt like things were back to normal. Clarke knew the new pregnancy would shift all that again, and nothing ever stayed at status quo down here for long, but at least for a little while, even if just for tonight, she could rest easy, knowing that she and Bellamy were back on solid ground.


	3. Chapter 3

“Bellamy, I need to go pick up those repaired radios from Raven, and you need to drop Dawn off with Monty!”

Clarke’s annoyed huff slid into a moan as Bellamy nipped at the nape of her neck, pressing his body tighter against her back.

“Really?” Bellamy murmured against her heated skin, causing Clarke to shiver. “Because I think you need to stay right here, with me, and with less clothes.”

Tugging half-heartedly at his firm arms around her waist, Clarke managed to turn around and face him. Narrowing her eyes at his smug expression, she tipped her head up and scolded, “I just managed to get dressed, no thanks to you, and those radios needed to be delivered to Miller ten minutes ago.”

“So it’s my fault you can’t resist me?”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke gave him a quick, smacking kiss and extricated herself even more quickly from his embrace. With a large grin, he reached out to grab her again, but she was faster. As she darted around the table in their quarters, she sent him an admonishing look.

“See you later,” she called over her shoulder.

A deep chuckle and a low _you can bet on that_ followed Clarke out the door, and she blushed in anticipation at the things his tone promised. In the week since the confrontation at the river, Bellamy had been relentless in his attentions. Apparently anywhere (their bed, the kitchen counter, the medbay stockroom, even the alcove at Raven’s gate) and anytime (every night, most mornings, even one hurried time during a hunting excursion) were his new rules, a complete turnaround from the last few months. Clarke almost couldn’t keep up, not that she was complaining of course. She enjoyed making up for lost time as much as Bellamy seemed to, though there were some (minimal) downsides. For one, her wardrobe was now much more limited. A few items had been torn in the hurry to get them off of her, and low collars were a no-go given the very obvious physical evidence of their lovemaking currently scattered across her chest. She was a little sore too, aching in all the right places when she ran a bit too fast or bent over too far. Still, those aches made heat flare in her, when she remembered why she was tender in the first place.

Despite the ten-minute walk to Raven’s workroom, Clarke still felt steady warmth in her cheeks as she recalled her lazy morning in bed with Bellamy. Taking in a deep breath, Clarke tried to clear her mind of the (dirty, very dirty) thoughts bouncing around, because Raven had uncanny and untimely radar for those. _Don’t think about Bell’s mouth, or where it was this morning when he woke you up, or where it’s going to be tonight—damn it. Don’t think about that._ Clarke pasted a bright smile on her face and stepped over the threshold, praying she would make it out of their before her mental dam burst again.

“Hey Rae, I’m here for the radios,” she called out tentatively.

Raven didn’t even look up from the plans in front of her, instead vaguely gesturing at the table to her right with her stylus. “Tell ‘em this is the last batch I’m fixing, so they better be careful.”

“Gotcha,” Clarke said as she collected the radios. A few were clear across the table, so she had to lean forward quite far to get the last of them. The motion pulled on those sore muscles of hers, and she let out a sharp hum of surprise at the twinging sensation.

 _Goddamn it, Bell,_ she thought wryly.

“You okay?” Raven said, finally looking up from her plans.

 _Keep it together, Clarke. You’re almost out of here._ “Yeah, yeah, completely. Just a little sore.”

Raven raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Shit.

“The baby?” The mechanic asked, concern flashing across her face.

Clarke barely held back a sigh of relief. “Yeah, the baby.” _Good recovery._

“You should sit down. You look a bit flushed.”

Surprisingly, Raven hurried around the table, forcing Clarke onto a stool before she had a chance to escape. Darting a glance at her friend, she bit her lip, wondering how long until she could scoot out, because at this range, Raven was bound to pick up on her real problem.

“Mm, it is a bit hot in here. Nothing like the Ark, huh?” Clarke rambled nervously. Her cheeks burned just a bit more as she remembered how warm it had been in their bed this morning, how warm Bell’s breath had been against her— _goddamn it_.

“Yeah, no,” Raven said, narrowing her eyes just the slightest. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke insisted quickly, a bit unsteadily, dropping the radios into her lap. “Like I said, just a little warm.”

Needing something to do with her nervous hands, Clarke gathered up her loose hair, sweeping it up into a mass at the back of her head. As she held the strands there, she saw Raven’s gaze zero in on her now-exposed neck. Almost immediately, a wide, pleased grin appeared on the mechanic’s face, which was soon accompanied by a triumphant cackle.

“God, am I good, or what? You have no less than four hickeys on your neck, and me to thank for it. Guess that talk with Bellamy worked out in your favor, hmm?”

Raven laughed again, lips pursuing with overwhelming amusement when Clarke quickly dropped her hair back down in embarrassment.

“Things are—going well,” Clarke admitted sheepishly.

“Girl, things are going way more than well, if those marks and that dazed look on your face are any indication. Clearly he was as starved for sex as you were!”

“I was not _starved_ ,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

“Starved,” Raven enunciated smugly. “Like how Jasper looks whenever someone mentions chocolate cake.”

“Shut up!”

“I’ll shut up when you get your dirty thoughts out of my work room.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Clarke relented, gathering up the radios again and standing up from the stool.

“I’d tell you to keep the sex safe, but I guess that’s a moot point with the little squirt on the way,” Raven said teasingly, sending Clarke one last smug grin before turning back to her plans. “So, go do the dirty to your heart’s content. Just, not where any of us can see.”

“Raven!”

“Oh, come on, we all know you’ve done it in public before. I don’t think Monty will ever be able to forget the time he saw you two behind the—”

“Goodbye!” Clarke called over her shoulder as she raced out of the workroom, fingers turning white as she struggled to keep a hold on the radios. She huffed as she realized her cheeks had never cooled, as the conversation with Raven hadn’t helped lessen her arousal. Practically running to Miller, she thrust the radios at him with as hurried an apology for being late as possible, darting off before he could give her even the briefest reply. Clarke stalked through the camp, looking for Bellamy.

She finally found him sorting through rations at the food station. As she passed by him, she leaned in, whispering _our room, five minutes_ in a low voice. When Clarke saw his eyes light up with mischief and something a bit darker, she threw him a flirty smile before striding off, hardly able to keep her steps at a normal pace because _oh the things that boy could do_.

**Author's Note:**

> Future fic is hard, so hopefully they weren't too OOC :) 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr: kay-emm-gee


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